


(S)aint

by cazmalfoy



Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-04 00:44:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6634210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cazmalfoy/pseuds/cazmalfoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>George didn't like Marilyn Manson. So why would he want to see Manson's new video?</p>
            </blockquote>





	(S)aint

**Author's Note:**

> This is RPS - Real Person Slash. I do not know George Eads or Eric Szmanda. No profit is being made from this story, and no offence is intended.
> 
> This was simply written for entertainment purposes.

George didn’t like Marilyn Manson. It wasn’t really his type of music. So why his best friend from college thought that he would want to see Manson’s new video was beyond him.  
  
He opened the movie, muted the computer and decided to sit back and watch to humour his friend before forwarding the video to CSI’s resident rock geek – Eric Szmanda – who would be more interested in the video than George was.  
  
He was seriously considering closing the window when he reached the halfway point. He picked up his beer and reached for the mouse. His eyes widened and he quickly clicked pause. He didn’t even flinch as the beer bottle slid from his grasp and fell to the floor.  
  
His eyes were glued to the screen in front of him. There, frozen on the computer screen, was a man nuzzling Marilyn Manson’s neck. A man who looked uncannily like his co-star Eric.  
  
He clicked play again, the images springing to life once more. His eyes never wavered from the monitor as the video continued. A few seconds later his suspicions were proved correct as he was able to see more of the guy. He wasn’t imagining it – that really was Eric.  
  
He watched in fascination as it showed a few more clips of Eric. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Eric seemed so comfortable being intimate with another guy. Even though he tried to stop them, he couldn’t help the thoughts that filtered into his brain. Wishes that he was the one Eric was nuzzling rather than Manson.  
  
Before he even realised what he was doing he reached over, grabbed the phone and hit speed dial one.   
After several rings the phone was answered with a sleepy, “Hello?”  
  
George froze and Eric repeated the greeting. “Erm, Eric, it’s me,” he said quickly, he had as he had a feeling Eric was about to put the phone down. “Did I wake you?” he asked, glancing at the clock and grimacing at how late it was.   
  
“George!” Eric exclaimed, sounding suddenly more awake. “Nah, don’t worry about it mate. If anyone else had woken me up this late I’d have killed em. But since it’s you, I’ll let you off.”  
  
George swallowed thickly, maybe it was wishful thinking but it seemed as is Eric was flirting with him. “Listen, man,” George said, clearing his throat nervously. “I was gonna ask if you wanted to come over for a beer or something but I didn’t realise how late it was so it doesn’t matter. I’m sorry… you need to sleep… I’ll go now.”  
  
Eric laughed, the sound sending shivers down George’s spine. “G, you’re rambling.”  
  
Of course he was rambling. He always rambled when he was nervous. And Eric always managed to make him feel both nervous and giddy all at the same time.  
  
“I’ll come over. I don’t mind,” Eric continued, snapping George out of his own thoughts.  
  
“What?”  
  
“I said that I’ll come,” Eric repeated and George had to bite his inner cheek to stop the moan that was threatening to escape his lips at that single sentence. He wondered if Eric realised what George had took that to mean. As Eric kept talking it sounded like the younger man was completely oblivious but George wasn’t sure if he was just pretending not to know what he said. He was a professional actor after all.  
  
When Eric said that he’d be around in about fifteen minutes George replaced the receiver and glanced around the room he was in. You could definitely tell that he had spent very little time at home recently. Everything was very reminiscent of a traveller who had just returned from a yearlong trip and hadn’t bothered to put anything back in its place yet.  
  
He spent the next ten minutes dashing around the room, trying to make it as tidy as he could in the short time he had. Sweat dripping down his face as he stepped into the bathroom and splashed cold water on his cheeks in an effort to cool himself down. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror and sighed when he saw his cheeks were flushed.  
  
He didn’t know why he wanted the house to be perfect when Eric arrived. It wasn’t as if the other man had never been there and he was trying to make a good first impression. Until recently, when their schedules seemed to run parallel with each other, hardly meeting or crossing over, Eric had seemingly spent every waking moment at George’s – and sometimes even some non-waking moments when they had fallen asleep in front of the television after a marathon night of movies.  
  
He heard the front door open and smiled when he heard his pet’s happy yapping and Eric’s voice say, “Hello, Maverick.” He had forgotten that he had given Eric a key to his house – for emergencies, had been his reason.  
  
“Hey,” George greeted, walking down the stairs and smiling at the spiky haired man who was crouching down next to Maverick and whispering nonsense in the dog’s ear.  
  
Eric looked up at him and grinned from ear to ear. “I think he likes me,” he commented, smirking down at Maverick who was rubbing himself around Eric’s knees.  
  
George rolled his eyes, “Of course he does. You’re his daddy,” he cooed, scratching Maverick behind his ears.  
  
Eric grinned even wider. “Well, you’re very lucky, Mav,” he said. “You’ve got two daddy’s.”  
  
George knew that a blush was threatening to creep over his face so he turned away from Eric and wandered down the hall to the kitchen. He could hear footsteps behind him and he knew that Eric was following. “About that beer I promised you,” George said, pulling open the silver fridge and withdrawing a cold beverage.  
  
“My favourite,” Eric grinned, taking the bottle off of George and cradling it in his tanned hands. “What made you decide you wanted me over for a beer at four in the morning?” Eric asked making his way though the house to the sitting room where George had watched the video earlier. George idly wondered if Eric knew the way around his own house as well as he did George’s.  
  
“Do I need to an excuse to want to see you?” George’s lips asked before his brain caught up with them.  
  
Eric looked startled for a fragment of a second before the corners of his mouth twitched upwards in a smile. “I suppose not,” he whispered, sitting down at the desk and looking at George’s laptop, which was still on. “I bet you were watching porn, weren’t you?” he asked, his brown eyes sparkling mischievously as he reached for the mouse and clicked play before George could say anything.  
  
He almost choked on his beer when the video started again from the beginning. “I never knew you were a Marilyn Manson fan,” he coughed.  
  
George smiled, “When you did you have time to film it?” he asked, thinking about his own busy schedule.  
  
“Between seasons,” Eric replied, closing the window down.  
  
“And you didn’t tell me because?” George asked, realising afterwards that he sounded like a nagging housewife.  
  
“I didn’t think you would want to know that I spent my time off snogging the goth rocker of goth rockers,” Eric replied, turning around in the chair and looking at George. “It was kinda weird anyway.”  
  
“I never thought I’d hear you say that something Manson related was weird,” George grinned.  
  
Eric smiled back at him, “Well it was,” he said. “I just hope people don’t take it to mean something it doesn’t. I was doing a favour for a friend, that’s it. If any one thinks that I’m even the slightest bit gay, I’m screwed.”  
  
George titled his head to the side and smiled slightly, “Really?” he questioned. “But I thought it was kinda hot to be gay nowadays?”  
  
Eric laughed, “Yeah, well not everyone thinks that way.”  
  
“Are you? Gay that is?” he mentally slapped himself – wondering when his mouth had decided to function on its own.  
  
“Not completely,” Eric whispered. “I suppose it’s not big a deal if people think I’m gay. As long as there’s no definite proof that I actually am, I don’t suppose it matters. People’ll probably think I’m dating Manson or something.” Eric shuddered slightly. “He’s so not my type,” he breathed, standing up so that he was about an inch away from George’s face.  
  
"Really?” George asked in response. “And what is your type?”  
  
Eric grinned up at him, “I like guys who are taller than me, well built,” he ran his hand up George’s arm, making the other man shiver, “with brown eyes, short hair and a gorgeous Texan accent,” George’s breath caught in his throat, “and he’s not allowed to wear more make up than me.”  
  
George chuckled at the last comment, noticing that Eric was, in fact, wearing black eye make-up. “Texan accents do it for you, then?” George asked.  
  
Eric nodded his head and stepped forward, closing the gap between them and pressing their lips together. A move he would later try to blame on the one beer he had drunk.  
  
George’s eyes fell closed almost immediately as he felt Eric’s soft lips on his own. He gave up trying to tell himself that Eric was one of his best friends and that this was a mistake when he felt Eric’s tongue running along his lips, prying them open. That was when he forgot all about dealing with the consequences and kissed Eric back.  
  
As Eric’s fingers quickly undid the buttons on George’s shirt the Texan found himself wondering if Eric still had the skirt.


End file.
